Reluctantly, with the night still young, he flagged down a taxi and returned home. He had a lot of planning to do when he got back. He needed a fool-proof plan to win back her trust and to make her fall in love with him all over again. He’d put his love life on hold over the years, waiting for the day he’d be able to entice her back into his life and into his bed. He wasn’t about to throw in the towel now.
He chuckled and found himself admiring the new fiery version of Nicci and looked forward to the challenge ahead of him to achieve his ultimate goal: waking up to her every morning for the rest of his life.
THREE
Arriving at work fully prepared and alert for the busy day ahead of her, Nicole boiled the kettle as soon as she opened up the shop. Her clients expected to be treated like royalty as soon as they entered. Mrs. Long entered the salon at five minutes past her appointment time, as usual.
“Nicole, I had a wonderful dream last night! In it, my hair was short and pointed at the ends. Can you replicate that style? Oh, what am I asking you for? I know you can do that for me.”
She smiled at the woman. Over the years, Nicole had won local awards in several competitions for her adroit styling. She was used to customers demanding a total change in style. Her reply was always attached with a caution if she thought the style wouldn’t sit properly on the person concerned. Mrs. Long happened to be such a person.
“I’ll tell you what, Mrs. Long, you look through the magazines, try and find me a style similar to one you had in your dream, and I’ll tell you if it’ll suit you or not. How’s that?”
“Sounds wonderful. White with one sugar for me, dear.”
Nicole smiled at the forthrightness of her customer. “No longer on the diet then?” she asked cheekily, her smile still firmly in place, warding off any outward sign of her sarcasm.
“Finished that a long time ago, dear. I ended up dropping five dress sizes—can’t you tell? Hence me wanting the new hairstyle.”
Nicole cringed. No, I can’t tell, and I doubt many other people would be able to tell either. During the coffee-making process, she’d have to come up with a gentle reason why she thought a cropped, short style wouldn’t suit the plump-faced woman. This was the one part of her job she detested. At any given moment, a valued customer could take umbrage with her, and if that ever got around a small town like this, her reputation would be ruined—and poof, her business doomed. With it, hers and Sammy Jo’s comfortable lifestyle would be a long and very distant memory. “Beware the idle gossip of a small town,” her mother had instilled in her when she had first opened the salon.
She returned with Mrs. Long’s coffee. The woman excitedly turned in her seat, eagerly awaiting her arrival. She prodded her finger at the magazine in her lap. “This is it. What do you think? Isn’t it simply divine?”
Not in a gazillion years, lady! “Well, let’s see. There’s an awful lot to consider before we can accomplish such a complex style, Mrs. Long.”
The woman’s smile diminished quicker than a popped balloon. “Oh? What do you mean? I’ve got my heart set on this one, dear.”
Nicole set the woman’s cup of coffee on the counter in front of her and pulled up one of the other salon chairs. “You see here…well, this girl’s hair is very fine, whereas you’ve been blessed with a head of beautifully thick hair.”
The woman looked in the mirror and turned her head first to the left and then to the right, her mid-length hair swishing as she moved. “Hmm…perhaps you’re right. It would be a shame to lose the length. I’ve had it this long for so many years now, maybe I’d hate it if it was too short. You’re right. So what do you suggest?”
Nicole sighed inwardly, another disaster averted in the nick of time. “Well, let’s see now.” She knew exactly what style would suit this woman in her fifties, and she whipped through the pages until she found the image she was looking for. “Here you are.”
She handed the magazine back to Mrs. Long, who snatched it from her grasp in excitement.
“Ooo…yes. That is lush. It also means that I would not be going out of here nearly bald. You’re amazing, Nicole, a pure genius. Now, will it take long? I have to be at church at eleven to meet the vicar. My little Jodie is all grown up now and has finally set a date for her wedding. Looks like it’s going to be all systems go for the next few months.”
“That’s wonderful news. Make sure Jodie books herself and her bridesmaids in quickly. You know we’re coming up to the wedding season, and I’ll be inundated with bookings before long, I can guarantee that.” Nicole smiled as she led the woman over to the basin to wash her hair, although the thought of having to listen to wedding preparations for the next hour or so churned her stomach.
“Gosh, I never even thought of booking you early, dear. Thank you for the reminder. Now, we were thinking about having the reception at the Grange Hotel. What do you think of that as a venue? Pretty swish, eh?”
Nicole let the woman drone on, most of the time asking and answering her own questions, while Nicole got to work on the new style. The last thing she wanted was to start talking about weddings, as it ended up being a sharp reminder that Josh was back in town, in her life. There was a time when she would have longed for a gold band to decorate her finger. To spend the rest of her life loving and being loved by Josh. However, that dream was shattered into tiny fragments the day he suddenly left town, left her. Hot tears filled her eyes suddenly. She was halfway through the woman’s haircut when she excused herself for a moment.
She ran into the tiny toilet out back and blew her nose. The tears came fierce and fast, and she had difficulty stemming the tidal flow. She whispered fiercely at herself, “What in God’s name is wrong with you? Pull yourself together or you’ll end up a quivering wreck.” Why the heck has he returned? Now, why now...just when my life has finally settled down?And here he is, ready to turn my world upside down again.
She dried her eyes and returned to the salon. Mrs. Long scrutinised her for a while as Nicole set about finishing the woman’s new, improved style. “Everything all right, Nicole? You don’t seem your usual, chirpy self.”
Nicole waved a hand, dismissing the woman’s assumption. “I’m fine. Think I might be coming down with a cold, that’s all. There’s a lot of it at my daughter’s school right now. You know there’s no stopping those pesky germs once they start spreading.”
“You’re right, of course. How is that gorgeous daughter of yours?”
“She’s fine. She stayed at Grandma’s over the weekend.”
“Oh, I see. Fancied a night out on the town, did you?” The woman’s chubby finger tapped the side of her nose.
Nicole cringed. Big mouth! She chastised herself. “Yes, I went out with Chrissy…you remember my sister?”
“Oh yes, I remember her. She liked the boys too much when she was at school, I believe.”
Nicole laughed. That just about summed her sister up beautifully in one damning sentence. “She did, still does apparently. I wasn’t feeling good on Saturday and left the club early.”
“That’s a shame, dear, not to take advantage of your freedom. A young girl like you should be out there finding a father for Sammy Jo. You’ve been alone too long, if you want my opinion. No sign of a nice young man on your horizon, I take it?” Mrs. Long asked tentatively.
“I’m not really bothered. Sammy Jo and I have settled into a pretty decent routine over the years, I’d hate to jeopardise the close relationship we have with each other.”
“I can understand that. Have you asked Sammy Jo if she ever misses not having a father around, a male figure? All your family are female if I remember rightly, aren’t they?”
Nicole halted her snipping and glanced up at the woman in the large mirror. “Goodness, I’ve never thought about that before. Yes, sadly, we lost Dad to cancer when she was just a baby.”
“It’s something to bear in mind going forward. You don’t want her turning into a tearaway in her teens.”
Nicole’s eyes bulg
ed with fear. “No, I do not. That’s such a sweeping statement. Surely there are plenty of single parents out there whose children are well grounded, aren’t there?”
Mrs. Long shrugged her heavyset shoulders. “I suppose so. It’s always best to be sure about these things and do everything we can to prevent possible bad outcomes though. That’s what I told my eldest daughter anyway. She’s got two girls, ages six and eight. Their father left them high and dry when the girls were two and three months. My Danielle was determined that she didn’t want to bring them up alone. She found James via the Internet; mind you, that type of thing’s not for everyone. You hear such dreadful stories of girls meeting someone online and being reported as murder victims in the paper. It’s important nowadays to have your wits about you when dating men, but you’ve got your head screwed on. I can tell that, dear. Give it a go, what have you got to lose?”
Nicole’s hand covered her chest. “I couldn’t do anything like that. The risk would be too much to bear. I’d never forgive myself if I brought a paedophile into the house.” Nicole shuddered at the thought. No, she was far better off being a lonely spinster. Whoa, is that how you perceive yourself? There she was, off again, having yet another conversation with herself. She knew that the evening ahead would consist of making pages of notes—her solution to life’s little dilemmas. She always felt better about things when she jotted them down on paper then scribbled out things that didn’t suit a particular problem.
“Nonsense. Although, I can totally understand your apprehension. I can dish the advice out, dear, but when it comes to taking such advice on board, I’d certainly pause before jumping in with both feet. You’ll make the right decision once you’ve thought over your options. You’re lucky—you have intelligence in abundance. Let’s face it, you wouldn’t be a success in business if you didn’t have something solid up here.” Mrs. Long poked her forehead. “Now, I hate to bring this conversation to an abrupt halt, but time is marching on, dear.”
“I’m so sorry. Thanks for the friendly advice anyway. I’ll certainly take it into consideration. Maybe I’ll come right out and ask Sammy Jo how she feels about our circumstances. There I go again…let’s get you finished and on your way.”
She worked solidly, without further thought of her dilemma, and when the styling had been completed Mrs. Long hugged her tightly. “You’re wonderful, a pure artist with a great talent. I can’t wait to show off my new image. Take care, Nicole. Don’t waste too much time worrying about the position you find yourself in; instead, do something about it.” The woman pecked her on the cheek and thrust a ten-pound tip in her hand.
“I can’t take this!”
“I insist. If you don’t want it to spend it on yourself, then put it towards buying your daughter a pretty dress or some dainty shoes. You deserve it; you’ve made my year. I’m so grateful this town has your services on hand.”
Nicole smiled broadly and showed the woman out. “Thank you for your kind words and the advice, Mrs. Long, I hope the wedding preparations go well.”
“They will. I have every confidence.” The woman waved and kept waving as she walked swiftly to the little church at the end of the road.
Nicole had ten minutes to spare before her next customer was due. She put the kettle on and made a quick cup of coffee. The bell jangled, interrupting her task. Suddenly a shadow appeared behind her, and she felt a gloved hand cover her mouth. “Make a sound and I’ll hurt you, you hear me?”
Her racing heart pounded as she nodded. She tried to speak, but the intruder’s hand pressed harder against her mouth.
“Where’s the money?”
Nicole didn’t have any money on the premises, only what she kept in the float. She always made a point of banking all her takings on a Friday night.
Not being able to speak, she pointed to the office not ten feet away where she kept the safe. He pushed and pulled her through the confined space and forced her down on her knees. “Open it.”
Her hand trembled so much she overshot the numbers for the right sequence several times. The intruder slapped her on the head, until finally the clunk of the safe mechanism filled the room. He shoved her aside and tore open the safe.
Nicole got to her feet. Before she had the chance to run for help, the man pounced on her again and knocked her to the ground. “Where is it? The money? Where’s the bloody money?”
Dazed and confused, she mumbled, “I don’t have any. It’s Monday.”
The man’s ski mask-covered face came down to meet hers. She could see the anger lying in the depths of his near-black eyes. “You’ve got five minutes, lady or…” He left his sentence intimidatingly dangling in midair.
“Please, if I had it, don’t you think I would give it to you? Don’t hurt me, please. I have a daughter. She needs me.” Helpless tears slid down her cheeks. The man’s knee pinned her to the ground. His gaze ran the length of her body, and she fought back the shudder daring to show how scared she was. She could feel him mentally undressing her.
Oh my God, he’s going to rape me!
“A daughter you say,” He said running his tongue over his lips.
She swallowed noisily as he leaned over, digging his knee deeper into her stomach. “Please, I’ll get some money to you…just don’t hurt me,” she struggled to say as he stole the breath from her body.
He sat back on his haunches. “How much have you got? And don’t bother telling me lies.”
Nicole pulled herself upright and leaned her back against the safe, wary in case the man struck out again. “I have about ten thousand in my bank account. I’ll need time to arrange to get the money withdrawn, though, because it’s tied up in a savings account. My daughter’s savings account,” she added, hoping the man would take pity on her. He didn’t.
Instead, he laughed. “What kind of fool do you take me for?”
“I don’t understand?” She shook her head and regretted her actions immediately as nausea rose up from her stomach and lodged in her throat.
“You’re only saying this to get rid of me. The second I leave, you’ll be on the phone to the cops. I ain’t an idiot, lady.” His eyes darted around the room.
Aghast, her hand flew up to her neck and clasped her jumper. “I swear I won’t say a word to the police if you promise not to hurt me.”
“Quite the little actress, aren’t you, precious?”
He moved towards her. She sucked in a breath and closed her eyes. “Please don’t hurt me.”
“Stop you’re whining, woman.”
Eyes still firmly shut, she clenched her fists as she heard him remove something from the desk above her head. She could feel his hot breath against her cheek and suddenly felt him grab her hands together. Her eyes flew open, and she saw him wrapping her wrists in a plastic twine that she’d forgotten to throw away when she’d unloaded a package from her suppliers a few days before. Damn, you idiot!
“Please, there’s no need to do that. You have my word that I won’t try to run.”
“Just to be sure, eh? Now, what shall I do with you?” He glanced around the tiny back room again. “I’m going to put you in there. You stay put for a full ten minutes after I leave, you hear me? I’ve thought over what you said, and I have little option but to believe you. I’ll come back at the end of the week to get my money. Until then, I’ll be keeping an eye on this place and your home—yes, I know where you live, lady. You call the cops at all and you and your kid will be keeping the worms company in a grave. You get my drift?”
Her eyes bulged, and she gulped back the bile threatening to spill into her mouth. “You have my word. I don’t want either me or my daughter to get hurt.”
“Do as I say and we’ll make sure that doesn’t happen. Get up.”
He yanked Nicole to her feet and pushed her towards the toilet door. Opening it, he shoved her in and sat her on the toilet. “Stay there for ten minutes, got it? I’ll be in touch.”
“When?”
“Take my word, lady. I’ll be wat
ching you.”
The door slammed behind him. Straining her ear, she heard the distant noise of the bell announcing his exit. Has he really left the shop? There was no way in this world she intended leaving the toilet within the next ten minutes to find out. She heard the bell jangle and sucked in a petrified breath. Oh my God, he’s back!
“Nicole, I’m here.”
She slowly released her breath when she heard Mrs. Jerrard’s dulcet tone work its way through the tiny gap under the toilet door.
“Won’t be a moment, Mrs. Jerrard, take a seat. I’ll pop the kettle on.”
“Lovely,” her customer responded.
Nicole tugged the plastic around her wrists with her teeth but the darn thing refused to budge. What the devil was she going to do? She couldn’t leave the toilet even if she wanted to.
The bell tinkled again. She heard voices—a male voice had struck up a conversation with Mrs. Jerrard. Thinking the man had returned, she braced herself for the woman’s scream. However, all she heard was flirtatious laughter instead. Straining her ear while still trying to loosen the plastic, she suddenly recognised the familiar voice of—
No! It can’t be Josh. I’m going to die!
If only she could get him to help her?
What are you saying? Don’t be ridiculous; if you did that you’d never get rid of him. He’s gonna think you’re inept, like other damsels in distress.
The voices ceased, and she heard footsteps approach and come to a standstill outside the toilet. Her heart rate escalated, and her breathing came to an abrupt halt.
A tap on the door nearly scared the crap out of her. “Nicci, are you in there?”
She inhaled a lung-shuddering bout of air. “Go away!”
“Are you all right? You don’t sound all right.”
“Go away!” The words came out in a hiss. She hadn’t intended to sound so harsh, but he was hacking her off, and the humiliating situation of literally having her hands tied was making her angrier by the second.
Crimes of Passion Page 147
